


Bandaged moments

by willowcabins



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Bering and Wells AU Week, F/F, Fake Marriage, Suburbia, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 13:25:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1820047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcabins/pseuds/willowcabins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if A was in love with B, but she pretends she isn't, but then A and B have to go on a mission in which they both pretend to be people who are in love with each other, while aggressively pretending not to be in love with each other, while they are secretly in love with each other. Confused? so are they. Bering and Wells Fake Married AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> based on the Person of Interest episode in which Zoe and Reese get Fake Married (2.07); dedicated to tumblr user didnotstartthefire; for Bering and Wells AU Week

"This is impossible. That's the _third time_ neighbourhood watch has made us leave this place. We are running out of time and options, and we still need to monitor the Doyles," Myka fumed, glaring as the police men waved them off and they pulled into active traffic again.

"I may have an idea," Pete called from the Farnsworth that was open on the dashboard. Myka glanced at it and sighed.

"That is probably my least favorite sentence of yours," she muttered, navigating the slow suburban traffic with difficulty. Helena chuckled and steadied the fanrsworth.

"Wow! Hey! That's just _mean_! I have good ideas sometimes!"

"Your last idea included me dressed up as a stripper," Myka pointed out.

"Well, how else were we going to tell Candy that she was in danger?" Pete demanded, crossing his arms.

"I was thinking just words," Myka offered. Next to her, Helena chuckled.

"Okay, whatever. _This_!,” he paused for emphasis, “This is genuinely an amazing plan."

"What does it entail?" Myka asked suspiciously, pulling into the parking lot of the local coffee shop.

"You, HG and the house across the street." She turned off the engine of the car and grabbed the Farnsworth. Helena just looked between the Farnsworth and Myka’s dark expression and got out of the car.

"Please don't tell me -" She began, but Pete interrupted her again.

"I hereby pronounce you wife, and, uh? wife?" Pete's face appeared in the corner of the screen, grinning. "Come on, Mykes, this is an amazing idea."

“I kinda agree,” Claudia chimed in.

"Why can't I be married to Pete instead!?" Myka asked, exasperated. Claudia pulled a face.

"He's still chasing the baseball card," she admitted.

"Still!?" Myka asked.

"It’s a difficult case!" Pete cried, trying to defend himself

"I told you: you shouldn't have let him work on his own."

"We're stretched thin right now, Myka.” Artie snapped. “There isn't a lot we can do. Now, go tell Helena about your new arrangement. The moving trucks will arrive in an hour."

"An hour?!" Myka squeaked. Claudia appeared in front of the Farnsworth again and grinned.

"Hey! I work fast!" She exclaimed, pleased with herself.

"Too fast!" Myka squeaked. The car door opened and Helena clambered into the car, two ice coffees in hand.

"There are _far_ too many people in that establishment," she muttered, handing on of the two cups to Myka. Myka accepted the freezing beverage gratefully and sighed.

"HG got you _Starbucks_?" Pete demanded, appearing in the screen again. Myka glared at him.

"I’ll be talking to _you_ later," she muttered before she snapped the Farnsworth shut. Helena pushed up her sunglasses and grinned at Myka.

"So! What's the plan?"

"We're getting married." Myka had expected Helena to splutter and cough all over the dashboard. Helena simply raised one eyebrow and looked down at her hands, disappointed.

"Well, you'd better go get me a ring then," she sighed. Myka couldn't help but grin.

"I got you a house. Is that good enough?"

"eh. I suppose it will do for now." Myka rolled her eyes, trying to supress her grin, and started the car.

"Let's go take a tour then."

 

The house was pretty and suburban and simple. Helena quickly noted that it had three bedrooms. "Are we planning on starting a family _already_?" Myka rolled her eyes.

"I suppose so," she said after a moment of deliberation. Helena grinned.

"Shot gun not being pregnant." Myka tried to supress a smile when Helena used that phrase; it was also so cute to hear Claudia’s vocabulary said with a British accent.

"I was thinking we could adopt." She deflected.

"Adopt?" Helena asked, turning to face Myka.

"Yeah, I don't know. I always thought that's what I would do one day." Myka admitted with a nonchalant shrug.

"You never want to be pregnant?" Helena asked, brow furrowed.

"No, that just sounds very uncomfortable. And inconvenient. I wouldn't be able to do… things… while I was pregnant," Myka explained, hopelessly gesturing around, as if her hand movements somehow lent her word “things” a definition.

"It’s not so bad. You feel something growing inside of you. It can be kind of nice." Myka blinked.

"Oh yeah,” she murmured, “I totally forgot about that." Helena smiled wryly.

"I didn't." she replied and left the room. Myka bit her lips and sighed and followed Helena into the kitchen.

“It’s a nice kitchen," Helena decided. "Can you cook?" Myka snorted.

"Me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Helena tilted her head. "Oh you're serious? no, no i can't cook. I tried once."

"What?"

"Well, I tried to cook Sam a romantic meal once. It was pretty much just mashed potatoes and sausages, and I still managed to fuck that up."

"Wow, that sounds romantic."

"well, can you cook?"

"i could. I may be a little rusty, but let's see what I can do."

"Did you have servants who cooked for you?"

"servants is such an ugly word. We had _help_. but you forget, I am a woman. I was trained to do at least some very simple cooking. Just in case." Myka tilted her head, fascinated. She rarely had the time to quiz Helena on her Victorian lifestyle, and Helena was rarely in the mood to discuss it.

"I would have assumed you would have just learnt how to keep a house," she prompted. Helena chuckled and ran a hand over the counter absently mindedly.

"My mother frequently assured me that “a good house keeper knows how to cook a simple meal”, so I leaned. She was even fair about it; Charles also learnt how to cook. She thought he should appreciate the work his future wife would do for him."

"Wow, your mother sounds kind of cool," Myka admitted. Helena smiled sadly.

"She was." They started at each other for a few thoughtful seconds and Myka almost felt that she should add something to the silence; an admission that Helena too, was amazing or perhaps a confession her own mother had not been so thoughtful. Thankfully, A loud honk from their moving van interrupted them.

Helena grinned and shrugged and walked out. Myka checked her phone and followed. A text from Claudia said: "Wedding rings are in the dressers. top right hand corner. thank me later." She smiled; Claudia was getting really good at this.

Helena was out on the front lawn, squinting up at the moving truck. Two movers opened the back; it was crammed full of furniture. Helena shook her head.

"Let's go unload," Helena sighed as Myka stepped next to her on their new front lawn. Myka nodded and let Helena lead.

She didn't know if she was ready to spend at least a week in an empty house in suburbia with Helena. She didn't know whether she could contain this raging rollercoaster of emotions in her body right now. She looked down at her phone again.

"Good Luck." Good one, Claudia.

 

"We should introduce ourselves now," Helena decided. It had taken the better part of the afternoon to bring all the furniture into the house. Myka was grateful there was only one box marked with their names on it; miraculously, it had Myka and Helena’s own clothes in it. Myka didn't know _how_ Claudia had pulled that one off, and for once, she didn't want to ask. Before they could do anything about Helena's proposition, however, the doorbell rang.

"Hello!" The Doyle’s were a happy couple; they had three children, a white picket fence and one car. Mr Fred Doyle owned the local bookshop shop down the street; he was a good DIY builder and had built most of the house by himself. Lisa Doyle was a math teacher at the local primary school and assistant principle. She was also head of the neighbourhood watch, and a genuinely friendly and kind person. Their three children, Delia, Lavinia and William were sweet. All these things Myka and Helena already knew; all these things they had to forget. "We saw you move in across the street, and we wanted to invite you to the neighbourhood!" Lisa Doyle said in excitement. "My name is Lisa, and this is my husband Fred. We are so happy to have you in our neighbourhood."

"Hello!" Helena answered with the same excitement. "My name is Helena, and this is my wife, Myka!" Myka glanced down at her wedding ring, twisting it on her finger slightly. She didn't want to admit just how much her heart had jumped when Helena had used that epithet.

"What a _lovely_ accent! We're so happy you moved in!” Lisa cooed. Myka resisted the urge to roll her eyes and leave the fawning couple to eat from the palm of Helena’s hand.  

“This is a very open, and accepting neighbourhood," Fred added quickly.

"Yeah, we've heard great things," Myka chimed in with a graceful smile.

"So, is it just the two of you?" Lisa asked, looking past them into the empty hallway.

"Yes," Myka said quickly, before Helena was forced to answer that question. "We've both been working full time in the city until now, so we decided perhaps moving out in the suburbs would give us more time to breathe."

"Settling down is such a nice first step. This is a _great_ area for children too," Lisa explained. She waved the thought away. "But that’s a topic for another day! We were wondering if you wanted to come have dinner with us! Fred was about to start the grill, and it such a nice day! It would be a shame to waste it!"

"That sounds great!" Helena seemed genuinely excited. "Let us just freshen up, and we'll be right over!"

"Wonderful!" They closed the door. Myka breathed out. Helena sighed.

"I genuinely don't understand the suburbs," she said, glancing at their door in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Myka asked, following Helena into the kitchen.

"It's so suffocating here," Helena replied with a shrug, getting a glass from the shelf an filling it up with water from the sink. "Everyone knows each other; everyone wants to have coffee together. Where is my anonymity?" Myka smirked.

"That's not really a thing out here." Helena shook her head and chuckled.

"I grew up in London. I am not used to impromptu dinner parties." She leaned against the sink and sipped her water.

"And I grew up in the middle of these suburbs. I know _all about_ dinner parties," Myka admitted.

"Teach me a thing or two?" Helena asked, tilting her head. Myka blinked, surprised.

"We only have about fifteen minutes!" She pointed out.

"Is that not enough time to teach me everything you know?" Helena asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Not even close!" Myka replied, crossing her arms.

"Then just teach me the important things," Helena tried. Myka considered Helena for a second, and then nodded.

"Well, first we need to convince them we are in love.” She decided, recalling painfully hot summer sat on rickety garden benches listening to her mother and Ms Laslow from next door discussing the new couple on the block. “They love scandal, and if they don't think we love each other they, they will feed on that."

"How do we convince people we're in love?" Helena asked, raising one eyebrow. She sipped at her glass of water, and Myka was sure she was being this infuriating on purpose. She sighed and approached Helena carefully, gulping.

"Well, first," she said quietly, "we give each other nicknames."

:What's my nickname?" Helena asked, raising an eyebrow. "Honey?"

"I was thinking more something along the lines of…’Tiger’."

"Tiger?" Helena raised an eyebrow. "That sounds strange...domesticated."

"Would you prefer ‘Kitten’?" Helena put down her glass and chuckled.

"Fine, ‘Tiger’,” she decided. Helena crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “But what do I call you?" She asked. Myka gulped again.

"What do you want to call me?" She asked; it sounded huskier than she intended.

"Will Myka not just do?" Helena asked.

"No," Myka decided.

"Mykes?"

"That's Pete's nickname for me."

"Mrs Wells?" Myka tilted her head and smiled.

"Fine, that might work," she conceded. Helena grinned in success and uncrossed her arms again.

"What’s step two then?" She asked. Myka swallowed and remembered Ms Laslow’s thick southern twang: “they always have a foot between them; have you noticed that, Jeanne? I have. I noticed it. Those two aren’t fooling anyone.”

“Touching,” Myka muttered quietly.

“What?” Myka _knew_ Helena was being obtuse on purpose.

“Well, touching. You know, that feeling when two people are so in love they are always touching.” Helena tilted her head and Myka stepped closer again, a lump in her throat making it difficult for her to breathe.

"How so?" Helena asked in a quiet, hoarse whisper. Myka wavered.

“You know exactly what I mean, Ms Wells.”

“Wait I thought you were Mrs Wells.” Myka blinked and stepped back.

“Well, that doesn't mean I can't call you that too,” she decided.

“These nicknames are getting confusing,” Helena complained, taking another sip of water. Myka was feeling hot and nervous. She fanned herself with her hand and walked to the other side of the kitchen. She closed her eyes for a moment and then turned around to fix Helena with an intense stare.

“Just always smile,” she warned.

“Always?” Helena asked, incredulous.

“Always.”

“Anything else you want me to do, Mrs Wells?”

“Just remember. A boy’s _life_ is on the line, Helena.” All mirth evaporated from Helena’s face.

“I haven’t forgotten.” She replied icily, disappearing upstairs to change.

 

“Hello Newlyweds!” Claudia cooed as she answered the call from the Farnsworth. “I bought you guys a marriage certificate online. In case you need it.”

“Wow, thanks, Claudia, but I don't feel like these are the type of people who will demand paperwork to prove that we are truly who we say we are,” Myka deadpanned. Claudia pouted.

“Well, I just wanted to be prepared. Now, have you made contact?”

“Why do you think we're so dressed up?” Helena demanded from behind Myka. “We are going over there to have dinner with them!”

“A barbecue," Myka added, making a face. Claudia snorted.

"Ah, don't look so put out, you two! barbecues are fun! Also, excellent opportunities to plant bugs and find out just where our artifact is hidden."

"So that we can neutralise it and reverse all this havok. As fast as possible."

"Yes yes yes. Now, did you unpack my bugs."

"What?"

"I put bugs in the top draw of the vanity."

"Oh, nice!" Helena opened the vanity and smiled as she took out a small bag of about ten little bugs and a remote listener. "Aren’t these cute?"

"Yeah, I ordered them online like 2 weeks ago. They are the newest technology. So be grateful, nerds."

"Nerds?" Helena crooked an eyebrow. Claudia shrugged.

"They are really cool okay. _Great_ listening range, among other things. Now, go make yourself busy. Go seduce targets, or whatever you guys do while I am here, manning the fort."

 

Barbecues had never been Myka's things. As a child, the smoke and the smell of frying meat had always bothered her; as she grew older, an awkward teenager, she had not fit in well. She just didn't look the part of a model child and thus had never found the "showing off" part of neighbourhood barbecues easy.

It felt different, though, walking into a party with Helena at her side. First off, people noticed them. Myka knew it was Helena's magnetic pull; she had a way of making herself the object of people's attention. It wasn't only her seductive smile and magnetic eyes; it was something more about her, something about her that said "I know things, and every time I talk, you want to listen". People streamed around her. Lisa appeared at their side as they entered the garden.

"Hello you two! i am so glad you two could make it." She was quickly followed by a massive black lab; Myka immediately knelt down to greet the dog.

"He’s adorable," she exclaimed. Lisa smiled politely.

"He's Lavinia’s dog. I have no idea how he got that big."

"He’s the _cutest_!" Lisa's lips thinned.

"He's not so cute when's chewing apart some of my favorite shoes." Myka gave a knowing chuckle and Lisa turned to Helena. "I hope you don't mind, I'm going to steal you," she said conversationally leading her off. "I was JUST telling my friend Siobhan about you; she LOVES English accents," Myka heard her say before they turned the corner of the house and were out of ear shot. Myka continued rubbing the dog’s ears.

"He loves that." The girl was an awkward looking 10 year old with blond hair sticking, at angles, from her head. Myka tilted her head and smiled.

"What's his name?" she asked, curious.

"Virgil." the girl replied. The dog looked up at his name. Myka grinned.

"That must make you Lavinia," she guessed. The girl didn't return Myka's smile; she simply looked down and then back up at Myka again.

"Who are you?" she asked, in lieu of an answer. Myka tilted her head and pointed across the road.

"My name is Myka, and I live there." she introduced herself, waving towards the house.

"You brought big trucks with you today."

"Yup!"

"Do you have a dog?"

"No."

"Do you have any children?"

"No." Lavinia's frown deepened.

"Do you at least have a husband?" She asked, grasping at straws. Myka rubbed her neck and grinned sheepishly.

"Not really?" she offered. The girl looked displeased. "I do have a wife," Myka offered hurriedly.

"But no dog." Lavinia repeated. Myka looked left and right conspiratorially and then stepped forward. "

“I have a secret, though." Myka offered. The girl tilted her head. The dog got up and sat down next to his mistress. "I do have a ferret."

"A ferret?" The girl repeated, forehead furrowed. “Isn’t that a rodent?”

“No, it’s a weasel,” Myka corrected the girl automatically.

“Why do you have a weasel?” Lavinia asked. Myka straightened up and grinned.

"A friend gave him to me. I couldn't refuse."

"Why is it a secret?" she asked. Myka looked around conspiratorially and dropped her voice again.

"It’s not in our lease."

"What's a lease?"

"A document that you sign that says "yes i will take care of this house while i am living here"."

"And that document can say "no weasels"?" She tilted her head. Myka grinned and nodded. The girl thought about it, and then nodded and offered Myka her hand.

"You can be my friend if you like," she decreed. Myka tried to supress a victorious grin, but there was something in the mechanical, friendly aura of this child that reminded her of herself.

"Great! I was worried I'd be friendless!"

"Really? Don't you have your wife here?"

"Well, yes... I meant with other people."

"Oh. Would you like some food?"

"Why not?" The girl scrunched up her face.

“Well, you might _not_ want food if you are not hungry, or don’t like food,” Lavinia explained to Myka. Myka just nodded thoughtfully, mentally reprimanding herself for her mistake, though out loud she only said:

“Well then, yes, I would like some food.”

"You might have to talk to the adults," Lavinia cautioned. Myka grinned and shrugged.

"As long as you save me before it gets too bad, I think we'll be fine."

“When should I save you?”

“When I have food.”

"How should I save you?"

"Offer to show me your room?"

"My room is boring."

"Offer to show me Virgil's room?"

"Okay."

They walked around the house, hand in hand, and Myka felt prepared for the barrage of questions and polite inquiries into her imaginary personal life that were to come.

"Myka!" Lisa waved her over. "Oh, I see you made a friend!" The confusion and joy in her voice were mixed; Myka doubted Lavinia made many friends.

"She likes Virgil," Lavinia explained to her mother. Lisa smiled and nodded, shrugging at Myka.

"I'm impressed! My daughter does not take kindly to strangers. Or friends. Or people in general."

"Myka has a way with misanthropists," Helena explained, appearing at Myka's other side and touching her arm affectionately. Myka gulped. It was nice to see Helena was taking her advice seriously, but that flirty smile and light touch would do anything to make someone's breath hiccup.

"Lavinia is not misanthropic," Myka corrected Helena instinctively. Lavinia tilted her head.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you don't like people," Helena explained. Lavinia's brow furrowed and she shrugged.

"I just like dogs." She explained. Helena grinned.

"I'm the same," she explained to the child.

"You like dogs too?"

"No, I just don't like people," Helena corrected, chuckling.

"But you have a wife," Lavinia pointed out, troubled.

"Well, Myka is an exception." The girl looked around the party; Lisa and her friends (one of them must have been Siobhan) had been surrounding Helena. Lavinia looked back at Helena.

"It doesn't look like you don't like people," she admitted. Helena grinned and crouched down to whisper to the child.

"That's the trick," she explained in a hushed voice that Myka could just about here. "Don't let anyone know."

"Isn't that lying?"

"Not if you do it well."

"I don't understand."

"Helena is just being dumb, don't listen to her, Lavinia," Myka said, dragging Helena up by her arm. "Stop teasing her," she hissed. Helena raised her arm in defeat.

"I'm not," She protested, whispering to Myka. They were hauntingly close and Helena's whisper ghosted across Myka's lips. Myka's breath caught and she tried to supress the hitch in her heart beat.

"Helena," Myka meant it to sound like a stern warning as she took control of the situation. Instead, it sounded like the weak whisper of someone _attempting_ to take control of the situation.

"Myka," Helena whispered back. Helena glanced left and then leaned forward and quickly kissed Myka. It was a light peck on the lips, barely a touch, but it paralysed Myka for a second. She felt like all her oxygen had been stolen; Helena just stepped back and turned back to her friends.

"You two are so cute," Myka heard Lisa coo in the background. "How long have you been married?"

"Years." Helena replied, turning around and grinning at Myka. "And I still have that effect on her." Myka took a deep breath of air and tried to pull herself together. It was just a kiss; it was just part of their cover; it meant nothing.

"Your hand is shaking," Lavinia offered. Myka smiled weakly and sighed. Lavinia tilted her head, confused. "Do you want to see Virgil's room?" She asked tentatively, clearly unsure if this was the time for their code question. Myka smiled, relived.

"Yes please, I would love to." Lavinia started leading Myka off.

"Myka?" Myka turned around. Helena stored across the lawn. "Don't forget these," she whispered, sliding the bugs into Myka's blazer pocket. Myka walked into the house, hearing echoes of “you two are so in love” behind her.

 

Helena was surprised at how much she hated this. She had thought this whole "pretending to be something you are not" deal would come naturally to her; she did have a lot of practice. But suddenly it felt cheap and wrong; Myka surprise at her kiss still imprinted itself in her mind. "So, how did you two meet?" Lisa's question brought Helena back. Helena tilted her head and smiled, desperately trying to translate her and Myka's first meeting into a meet cute these neighbours would accept.

"Well, we met at a museum actually. HG Well's house in London; you should go see it if you ever have a chance. Charming place. The man was a genius." She couldn’t resist.

"HG Wells?" Lisa asked, brow furrowed.

"Father of science fiction," Siobhan explained.

"Oh. Oh! He wrote that book that has the movie with Tom Cruise, right?"

"Something like that," Helena replied, trying to suppress her bristle. She hated it when people brought up that god-awful film. How they even got away with attributing it the same name as her book escaped her until this day. No matter. "Anyway, she and her friend, Pete, were looking around the exhibits and I had left my notebook somewhere, so I enlisted their help in finding it. By the time we found it, Myka had blown me away. I was speechless at her intelligence, elegance and beauty." She smiled, and for the first time this whole party, it wasn't fake. The real meeting with Myka had been far more jarring, but a gun pointed to her head and handcuffs were not the type of thing one discussed with people one had just met.

"That sounds adorable," Siobhan fawned. Helena smiled.

"She is a catch, isn't she?" She agreed.

"You two are so happy together. I think it must be easier for you guys." One of Lisa’s other friends, Rose, sighed.

"Us?" Helena asked, raising an eyebrow. It had been _far_ from easy, and she almost resented that implication.

"I mean, with the fact that you're both women,” Rose explained with a hand gesture. “I mean, most of the problems with my husband begin and end with the fact that he just doesn't listen."

“Men,” Lisa agreed.

"We have problems like that too," Helena pointed out, genuinely confused.

"But you're _women_ ,” Rose explained, as if this sentence was a complete justification. Helena continued to look confused. “Don't you both talk?"

"Not really? Myka is more of a silent type..." Helena offered. Lisa chuckled.

"I can sympathize with /that/." She said, shaking her head. "Fred," she added, gesturing to the grill where her husband was standing, surrounded by two or three other men who were all weighing in on where or not the sausages were done enough for hot dogs yet, "is not really a talker either."

"It's the worst, isn't it. Sometimes I just wish I knew what she was thinking, so I could say something without making a mistake!" Helena “admitted”. Lisa shook her head sadly.

"I know exactly what you mean. But you know, Fred buys me gifts randomly sometimes, just to remind me that he is thinking of me."

"Gifts?" Helena asked. Lisa bit her lip and smiled coyly, indicating her earrings.

"Yeah, he got me these last month, just to remind me that he is incredibly grateful for all the work around the house that I do." Helena’s eyes lingered on the earrings, but they were ordinary looking and had been around longer than their artifact. They weren’t it.

"Isn't he great?" Siobhan sighed and glanced towards _her_ husband. "Meanwhile Tom has forgotten our anniversary three years in a row. Thank god our daughter is so attentive; she has covered for him every year with presents that she has bought. It's been sweet, but incredibly frustrating. No amount of swearing will get him to remember."

"Men," another woman sighed. Helena smiled tightly. Suddenly, she was trying to remember the date of the first day that she and Myka had met. It had been in the summer; perhaps sometime around early June? It had been a difficult time for Helena, with all the debronzing and being used as a pawn in MacPhearson's game and then the murder. But somehow she still expected herself to remember.

She felt unsettle for the rest of the day. She wished Myka would come back already.

 

There are advantages and there are disadvantages to befriending a highly observant child that probably has a type 2 personality disorder. The advantage was her willingness to show Myka the whole house; the disadvantage was her perchance of noticing things.

“What are you doing?” Myka sighed and straightened up. Lisa Doyle’s vanity had not sparked with anything.

“I’m trying to find something bad in your house,” Myka explained.

“Something bad?” Lavinia tilted her head. “Well, that would be in my brother’s room then. He has all the bad things.”

Myka shook her head and smiled. "What bad things does your bother have?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. Lavinia made a face.

"Boy things," she said. Myka chuckled.

"No, the bad things I am looking for are not necessarily boy things. They are other bad things. Have your parents bought anything new lately? Anything old?" Lavinia thought for a second and titled her head.

"No." She said. "The last thing Mom bought dad was that garden bench and that was for Christmas." Myka sighed. That would have been too easy anyway.

"Myka?" Helena's call up the stairs made Myka jump. The dog looked up and his tail started wagging and he padded off towards the stairs to go greet Helena as she came up the stairs. "Did you find anything?"

"Nothing," Myka said, sighing. "And Lavinia said there was nothing new in the house." Helena frowned.

"Could Claudia be wrong about the source of the disturbance?" She asked, tilting her head. Myka shook her head again.

"Not really. This was the only location that worked." Helena glanced at the child.

"Have you noticed anything strange?" she asked. Lavinia shook her head.

"Myka asked me that too."

"That would have been too easy," Helena sighed, echoing Myka's former sentiment. Myka smiled and let go of Lavinia's hand to approach Helena.

"Don't worry about it, we'll find it," she murmured comfortingly.

"I hope so. Claudia said if anything got worse other children at Lisa's school might start getting sick. We need to find this before that happens."

"I agree, Helena. And we are doing our best."

"I just wish investigating didn't entail us having to go undercover like a couple of fourth graders."

"What does undercover mean?" Lavinia was standing by them, staring up at them thoughtfully. Myka buried her face in her palms and wanted to laugh.

"It means that we are here to help your family," Helene explained, crouching down to smile at Lavinia. "But it’s a secret. We are secretly helping your family."

"Why does it have to be secret?"

"Because otherwise it would be no fun."

"Are you like witches?" Myka laughed. Helena grinned.

"Something like that," Helena agreed. She straightened up and leaned in to whisper to Myka.

"Why do you always make the oddest friends?" Myka grinned and bit her lip; Helena whispering into her ear was an eerily pleasant experience. She supressed a shiver and glanced back downstairs.

"Let's go back downstairs," she murmured to Helena.

"Are we going to test the bench out in the garden?" Lavinia asked, grabbing hold of Myka’s hand again.

"Might as well,” Myka sighed, shrugging at Helena. “We’d better eliminate all things it’s not. And then find the thing causing this mess."

"Does Claudia have any leads of what we might be looking for?" Helena asked. Myka pulled out her phone. Nothing new.

"Nope. The effects are too common; she got nearly a hundred thousand hits in the Warehouse database."

"Don't you just love it when that happens?"

"Always."


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena considers married life "boring". Well, except for the breaking and entering part, obviously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nonchalantly glances at update. oh look at that. only a bit more than 12 hours. DID YOU SEE THAT, MALOU

PART II

Lisa looked up as Myka, Helena and Lavinia re-entered the garden. "Oh, there you are! We were just wondering where to you had snuck off!” Lisa giggled. She offered them a tray full of wine glasses. “Do you want a glass of wine?" Myka accepted the drink gratefully. Helena side eyed it and then glanced at the kitchen.

"Do you mind if I mix myself something? I have recently become very interested in cocktails," she admitted. Myka resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Lisa put down the tray and tilted her head, interested.

"Cocktails? Really? Why?"

"They are a modern invention. Did you know that the first mention of a cocktail is in a London newspaper in 1798, but the first cocktail party was only in 1914?”

“The word cocktail is British?” Lisa was amazed.

“Well, actually the OED claims the word has American origins and was only first used in 1803.” Lisa smiled, delighted.

“That’s so cool!” She cooed.

 “The mojito is my current favorite," Helena added.

“Can you show me how to make it?"

"Sure! First we need to go get some of the fresh mint you have growing in your garden." Myka watched Helena distract Lisa again with a heavy feeling of jealousy and annoyance in her stomach. It always unnerved her how well Helena wrapped people around her finger. One smile, and they were hers. She took a gulp of her wine and was pleasantly surprised. It was fruity and dry and expensive wine. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had good wine; all the wine and cheese parties in Washington and Denver had always supplied the worst, cheapest wine that was socially acceptable. Myka took another gulp of the wine and then turned to Lavinia, who had followed her down the stairs. "Shall we go sit outside for a bit?" She offered. Lavinia nodded emphatically.

"Can I have lemonade though?" She asked, eying Myka's wine. "I want something to drink too."

"Of course! Well, actually… Let’s go ask your mother." Myka glanced outside to see Lisa touch Helena's shoulder as they shared a private laugh while they cut the mint. She narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps not.” She decided.

"Lemonade is in the fridge," Lavinia supplied as Myka turned around. Myka grinned conspiratorially. "Let’s steal one and go sit in the garden." She offered.

“But it’s not stealing if it’s mine.” Lavinia pointed out. Myka nodded.

“Good point,” she agreed, walking towards the kitchen.

"Okay," Lavinia agreed.

 

The garden bench did not react either; typical. It wasn't even an antique bench; Myka was sure she had seen the exact model in Tracy's house too. But it was still fun to sit there with Lavinia. They took turns throwing the stick for Virgil, who always happily brought it back, tail wagging in excitement.

"He’s so well trained!" Myka marvelled. The child looked up at Myka and shrugged.

"I did it myself," she admitted.

"That's a commitment!" Myka noted. The child shrugged.

"Dogs are simpler than people. Anyway, Virgil is the best."

"That's true." Myka agreed, looking around the house. It was a beautiful neighbourhood. She had almost forgotten that with all the stress of undercover work.

She took another sip of wine. Lavinia looked over at her.

"When my mother has too much wine she becomes sad," She commented. Myka looked down at her glass that she had just finished.

"I'm just bored," she replied honestly. Lavinia tilted her head. Her blond hair glittered in the sunset.

"Want to have a sleepover?" she offered. Myka chuckled.

"Not tonight. First I need to have a sleepover with my wife. Perhaps tomorrow."

"There's a soccer game tomorrow. Delia playing in it, which means I have to go." She frowned. “Delia is my sister,” she added. Myka tilted her head.

"Do you not like soccer games?" she asked. Lavinia looked troubled.

"No, I like soccer. I just don't like crowds." Myka nodded.

"I understand that," she sighed.

"Do you want to come? If I sat next to you, then it might not be too bad." Myka grinned.

"Sure. Why not?" Lavinia smiled. Myka was taken aback, and then grinned back.

 

Helena was finishing her fourth cocktail when Myka finally found her. "Myka!" She cooed, grinning. Myka rolled her eyes.

"Have we been drinking, ladies?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. It seemed like all the mothers at this party were surrounding the island in the kitchen where Helena was whipping them up fancy drinks. They all giggled. Helena snaked an arm around Myka's waist and nuzzled her shoulder.

"I made them all drinks. See, I _told_ you that learning to bartend would be useful." Myka looked down at Helena, slightly surprised at how overly affectionate she was being. She wasn't sure whether the alcohol was adding to it, or if she was just playing up their disguise. Either way, Myka felt uncomfortably content. She carefully brushed Helena's hair with her fingers.

"That definitely looks like it was useful," she agreed. Lisa and her friends giggled.

"Myka, I have been _meaning_ to ask you," Siobhan slurred, "which one of you two wears the pants in the relationship?" Lisa punched Siobhan in the shoulder and shushed her.

"You can't _ask_ that, Siobhan!" She hissed. Siobhan looked surprised.

"Why?" She demanded. Helena let go of Myka and leaned forward on the table to hold eye contact with Siobhan steadily.

"Neither of us wear the pants, Siobhan," she whispered. "We both wear skirts. That's kind of the point.

"But Myka is wearing pants right now?" Siobhan prodded. Helena rolled her eyes.

"It’s a METAPHOR, Siobhan," Rose hissed. Myka snorted.

"I think it’s time we went home."

 

"Well _that_ was fun," Helena decided as they entered their own house. Myka realised giving it that epithet seemed weird and slightly fake, but right now it was the most appropriate. She shrugged.

"I didn't get any information. And I was only able to plant one bug, on the bannister. So let's check if Claudia got us some other information, otherwise today was a bust."

"You're such a pessimist, Myka. Didn't you make a friend?"

"Yes, I did. And you made like thirty."

"I wouldn't call them _friends_. You know, friendship in the twenty-first century seems different." Myka got a bottle of water out of the fridge and offered one to Helena. Helena accepted it gratefully and took a long swig.

"How are they different?" Myka asked, tilting her head. Helena put down her water on the table and sauntered towards Myka.

"Well first off, I haven't slept with all of them yet." Myka rolled her eyes.

"I think that says more about you than the 21st century," she admitted, watching Helena wearily. Helena tilted her head and decisively placed both of her hands on the counter on either side of Myka. They were dangerously close.

"And secondly, I really don't have that many of them."

"Again, you, not the twenty-first century,” Myka pointed out, slipping out from between Helena and the sink and going to stand by the doorway. “If you socialized more...."

"Wanna play a game?" Helena suddenly, catching sight of a box in the hallway. Myka blinked in surprise, a frustrated knot in her stomach twisting in annoyance.

"A game?" She asked, trying to sound less confused and irritated and more interested. Helena shot her a grin over her shoulder and headed to the box.

"I anticipated we might have to spend the evening here on our own, so I had a little plan."

"A plan?"

"Well I get bored very easily. My mother used to make sure I always had a pack of cards with me at all times so that I wouldn't start fidgeting too much. Claudia has the same thing, but with applications on her phone."

"Did you play solitaire a lot? With real life cards?" Myka asked, stepping forward fascinated. Helena scoffed.

"No. I played other games. Solitaire was too much of a game of chance for me."

"Oh." Myka's face fell. "I used to play solitaire all the time. On car trips."

"Did you not have a sister to entertain you?"

"Well, yes, but Tracy isn't a big fan of games. She has the ability to sleep anywhere and everywhere whenever she wants."

"That sounds useful."

"And boring, if you're me." Helena chuckled and pulled out her deck of cards and a box.

"Well, luckily for you, Agent Bering, I do not have that same skill. But I do have a set of cards and a box full of poker chips. I hear that you are very good at the game?" Myka snorted and pushed herself away from the doorframe to join Helena in the dining room.

"Who told you that?"

"You know, you are Pete's favorite conversation topic? He details your successes to me frequently. I can see why you like to have him around."

"How would Pete know if I am good at poker?" Myka asked, raising an eyebrow. "I never played with him."

"Well, was he wrong?"

"No, but -"

"Great. I have been looking for a new opponent. Pete is very bad at this and Claudia plays the numbers, not the people, so it’s no fun."

"You want me to play poker with you? Right now?"

"Yes! I even have the appropriate beverage." Helena pulled out a bottle of whiskey and Myka's eyebrows shot up.

"I don't think you should be drinking anymore," she muttered. But she picked up the bottle up anyway. Helena grinned and began shuffling the cards.

"Come come, Agent! Thanks to Agent Latimer's sobriety and Claudia's youth I have not been able to drink much recently. One could say I missed it."

"Were you a big drinker in your day?"

"In comparison to my consumption at the B and B, yes." Myka chuckled and looked between the bottle of whiskey and Helena.

"This is expensive stuff," she pointed out. Helena smirked.

"I don't skimp on the important things." Myka tilted her head and sighed.

"Fine. I'll play with you. And I'll drink with you. But if I win, then you have to promise to..."

"To do what, Agent Bering?" Helena's eyes were twinkling and Myka wanted to push her away and pull her towards herself simultaneously. She rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen, picking up two glasses. She returned and put both glasses on the table with a determined clunk. "If I win, I get to sleep in the bed," she decreed. Helena chuckled.

"Sounds fair," she agreed, pushing the box of chips over to Myka. "Divide up the loot, Agent."

Helena dealt the first hand as Myka pushed four stacks of chips towards Helena. Neatly divided by colour, Helena accepted her chips with a grin, and then turned over the three cards in the middle. Myka consulted her own cards; she had a low pair. She looked up to see Helena watching her, a pleasantly interested expression on her face as she waited for Myka to begin the bet. Myka glanced back at her own cards, smiled, and began to play.

They played for nearly four hours; it was midnight by the time Myka cleaned Helena out with a well-orchestrated flush. ("Five spades, including the black widow? I like your poetic finish, Agent Bering," Helena joked. Myka just whooped; the alcohol in her system had dramatically increased at how excited she was about the game.)

"Guess I am in for a night on the sofa," Helena conceded. Myka beamed as she put the chips back into the box carefully.

"A whole double bed to myself. I am so excited." She grinned, excitedly. "I hope Claudia didn't skimp out on the beds."

"You know she never would," Helena assured Myka with a smirk. Myka put the lid on the poker chips with a determined click.

"Okay. I'm going to head up now then," she said, glancing at the clock. "We have an early morning tomorrow, and I need my sleep." Helena nodded.

"I'll walk you upstairs. I have to get my stuff from upstairs."

"How chivalrous of you," Myka replied. Something quiet within her warned her to stop, but she was too drunk, too giddy, to listen to it.

Helena immediately got up and offered Myka her arm in mock chivalry. "Always for you, m'lady," she joked. Myka smirked and took Helena's arm. The stairs were steeper than Myka remembered, but Helena began giggling when they were half way up.

"It's not funny," Myka muttered, dragging Helena up behind her, unable to stop the chuckle from escaping.

"We are _such_ a mess. I can't believe those people _believed_ us when we told them we are married."

"Hey, speak for yourself! I have myself together very well!"

"Is that why we are drunk on a Saturday night like a couple of teenagers?" That stumped Myka. She narrowed her eyes and considered Helena.

"Who says I'm drunk?" She asked, as they made it to the top of the stairs. Helena snickered and let go of Myka's arm. Myka staggered for a couple of steps and caught herself against the wall, scowling.

"How rude!" she protested, straightening up precariously. Helena grinned and approached Myka carefully.

"My apologise, m'lady," she murmured. "I was just trying to prove a point." Myka laughed and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms.

"And what point would that be?"

"We're both wrecks." Helena decided, standing surprisingly close to Myka. Myka gulped; she hated that she liked how freely Helena invaded her personal space.

"Those are very strong words," she murmured. Helena chuckled and brushed a hand a long Myka's arm.

"Do you think they are not appropriate?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Myka bit her lip and looked up at the ceiling, trying to ignore Helena's hot breath billowing against her collarbone.

"I mean I just don't - what are you doing?" Helena loosely held Myka's wrist and made her uncross her arms, placing them both against the wall gingerly, as if Myka was a delicate doll. Myka tilted her head and watched Helena as Helena stepped even closer, one hand on the wall, next to Myka's head.

"You were saying?" she murmured, suddenly much too close. Myka's body felt overstimulated, stifled and electric. She took a shaky breath of hair and looked up at the ceiling again, trying to avoid Helena's dangerously hooded gaze.

"I was saying," she muttered, "that I just feel like," she tried _very hard_ to clear her head, "wreck is such a delicate word."

"Delicate?" Helena asked, skeptical edge to her voice. Myka blinked hard, exhaled and then slipped to her left, escaping Helena's comfortable suffocation.

"Yes!" She said, suddenly breathing more easily. She blinked and tried to clear her head of the fog of alcohol and attraction. "It has such dark connotations!" she repeated. Helena leaned against the wall, crossing her own arms and smirking in a combination of victorious smugness.

"Really?"

"Yes! And I am by no means a failure."

"No one said failure. I just said that the warehouse collects broken things, Myka."

"Broken?"

"Endless wonder must be preserved by someone, right?" Myka narrowed her eyes at Helena. Helena pushed herself away from the wall and shrugged. "You're so honorable, Myka," Helena sighed, all of a sudden. "I wish, one of these days, you would stop doing the right thing."

And then she left.

Myka did not sleep well that night, despite how comfortable the bed was.

 

Myka got up when the sun started peeking into her bedroom. She had been unable to sleep, and decided to take the insanely early morning and the glittering sunrise as an invitation to take a run. It was only 5am; she would have a lot of time to run out all her emotions. She strapped her iPod to her shoulder and started jogging.

Helena was infuriating on so many levels, and Myka only felt more and more claustrophobic around her. Claustrophobic was the wrong word though, because Helena's effect on Myka was distinctly pleasant. Pleasant, but dangerous.

"It is recommended that warehouse agents do not get involved with each other, though this is not expressly forbidden _unless_ one of the agents is on probation or in a trial period. Relationships with regents and bosses are frowned upon too."

The warehouse handbook seemed to imply that Myka's only options were acute loneliness if she wanted to follow the rules. She hoped that for once the rules would be more a deterrent than they had been with Sam. Myka ran faster, trying to escape that little voice in her stomach that pointed out that very little had been able to stop her and Sam. Really they _only_ thing that had stopped them was mortality.

Helena was different. She wasn't Sam.

(No, she was better.)

Myka sprinted.

 

Helena woke up when Myka came back home. She had tried to close the door gently and sneak in, but years of training and vigilance made Helena react defensively to the sound of a door opening. She sat up, dazed and slightly drowsy. Myka didn't notice; she headed straight up the stairs, sheen of sweat glittering on her arm. Helena tried not to watch too intently as Myka walked up the stairs. But it was difficult; she had a very nice ass.

Helena sighed, rolled her eyes, and opened her Farnsworth.

"Good morning, HG!" Claudia cooed from the other end. Helena glanced at the clock; it was exactly 7am.

"Why are you still at the warehouse?!" She asked. Claudia shrugged.

"I had a hundred thousand hits to go through. I wasn't going to have time to export the master list to my computer and then sort this out from my bed. So I power napped here and now I have your artifact."

"Wow. I am impressed!" Helena genuinely was. Claudia laughed.

"Sometimes being the geek monkey pays off," she chuckled. "Anyway. Your artifact. The effects have been incredibly varying, hence the problem narrowing it down. The incredibly complex filter system I have installed in the warehouse database means you can search for exactly five different effects. Across the thirteen victims this artifact effected, there were something like thirty common effects. That's an insane number."

"I am aware," Helena said, though she let Claudia continue. She knew the feeling of wanting to gloat about an achievement akin to Claudia's.

"Well, so I made 6 different searches, each with five separate symptoms, and tried to cross check those, but sadly that didn't come up with anything because not all thirty of the effects have been documented with this artifact. So i had to manually change one variable of every search and then let the computer system rescan the database. The answer? Emily Dickinson's shawl."

"What?"

"Emily Dickinson was a reclusive American poet who lived in the 19th century."

"But that boy collapsed, shaking..."

"Some biographers stipulate she suffered from epilepsy, which would explain her isolation."

"Well that would definitely explain the girl that went mute and the other girl that became incredibly agoraphobic," Helena mused, tapping the table thoughtfully.

"Someone became afraid of spiders?! I didn't factor that one in!"

"No - agoraphobia is a fear of the marketplace. Arachnophobia is a fear of spiders."

"Oh yeah okay thank god. Yeah I factored her in.” Claudia was relieved.

"That would also explain why it has targeted only women so far," Helena muttered, glancing at their list of victims.

"The only problem is our artifact is incredibly volatile."

"Well, yes, I noticed that."

"Also, we have no idea how the Doyles' family is both the hub of the artifact energy, and yet oddly immune to it."

"Could it be some familial thing?"

"I don't know." Claudia chewed the end of her pencil and glanced at all the documents surrounding her. She sighed again. "This artifact is in the system, but it was never in the Warehouse, which means that someone was aware of its "artifact" properties, but never picked it up because it wasn't causing trouble. There is no information on _how_ it spreads itself. Normally I would guess that someone is wearing it, but I highly doubt Mr and Mrs Doyle _and_ their children are sharing one piece of clothing."

"Yeah, that doesn't seem likely." Helena agreed.

"By the way, where is Myka?"

"Right here!" Myka called, jumping down the stairs in a hurry. Helena looked up and smiled at Myka tightly. Myka didn't return the sentiment; she just sat down on the sofa next to Helena and smiled at Claudia.

"An early start, Clauds?" She asked, eyebrow raised.

"More like I never went to bed!" Claudia replied, nodding at the warehouse database open in front of her. Myka shook her head disapprovingly. "But I figured it out! It's Emily Dickinson's shawl!"

"Emily Dickinson's shawl? I didn't even know she had one."

"Well, she knitted a lot, didn't she? So she probably made herself one."

"Self-manufactured artifacts," Helena repeated, troubled. Myka glanced at her inquisitively.

"Always more powerful. Would explain the wide range," she explained.

"Not really though; there must be something about how it’s carried." Myka sighed and rubbed her head. "I'm not really one for poets, to be honest. More of a novelist girl."

"Do you mean we have found something that Myka is not an expert on?" Claudia asked, perking up. "I should call Pete! He would love to know about this!" Helena chuckled, but then stopped as Myka shot her a dirty look.

"I think you should go to bed! Now!" she commanded. Claudia pouted.

"But I got you good information!" She complained. Myka shook her head, a smile pulling at her lips.

"And however grateful we are, we need you alive and functioning!" She explained affectionately. "So go home and sleep it off." Claudia opened her moth as if to protest, but Myka waved her off and continued over her. "And ask Leena to make you some vegetable soup! You can't live off Ramen and popcorn, Clauds."

"ughhhhhhhhhhhh," Claudia groaned. Myka grinned affectionately.

"Off you go. Helena and I can handle it from here."

"Oh yeah!" Claudia side-eyed the two of them. "How is marriage treating you?"

"It’s fun," Myka said at the same time as Helena said "it’s kind of boring."

"Boring?" Claudia asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Wow, HG! I am _sure_ you and Myka can figure out something to make this whole arrangement less taxing for you."

"Claudia!" Myka gasped indignantly while Helena chuckled. Claudia shrugged.

"What? I was just offering sage advice!"

"Go to bed. Immediately. We will talk more in the afternoon." Myka closed the Farnsworth. Helena watched Myka with a tilted head. Myka fidgeted on the couch and then jumped up.

"Hungry?" She asked, hurrying into the kitchen. "I could make us breakfast." Helena followed Myka into the kitchen, clearly with no intention of lessening how uncomfortable she felt. "How do you feel about eggs?" Myka said, opening the fridge. She was surprised to see it well stocked; Claudia really had thought of everything.

"Eggs sound great." Helena sat down at the island in the middle of the kitchen and watched Myka silently as Myka prepared them breakfast. Myka tried, and failed, to aggressively forget that Helena was there It was not going well when Helena finally started talking.

"What is our plan for today?"

"Our game plan?" Myka asked, aggressively mixing the eggs in a bowl.

"Yes, the game plan," Helena repeated, the American phrase sounding misplaced in her meticulous accent. Myka couldn't help but throw a smile over her shoulder at Helena.

"Well, Lavinia invited me to watch her sister's soccer game. If this town is anything like mine, then large sports events will draw out the whole family, giving you a solid 90 minutes to try and find our shawl in the Doyle house."

"While you watch the family at the football game?"

"Soccer," Myka corrected, "and yes. We can be in communication the whole time and I can be your look out."

"Won't people ask where I am?"

"I will tell them my beautiful wife Helena is a very busy woman who can't waste her precious time on soccer games."

"That just sounds mean! I love football!"

"Soccer, Helena. And what would you like me to tell them?" Myka dumped the scrambled eggs on two plates and brought them over to the island, setting one plate and a fork in front of Helena. Helena stabbed her eggs sadly.

"I don't know. Tell them I would love to come, but... but... I was called away? suddenly?"

"On a Sunday?"

"I am waiting for some contractors to come by?"

"On a Sunday?" Myka repeated. Helena rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," she mumbled. Myka chuckled despite herself.

"Our neighbours adore you, Helena. They will get over your absence at the game." Helena sighed dramatically.

"The things I do for the warehouse," she muttered. Myka chuckled again.

"And the warehouse thanks you for it."

 

Myka was right; the stands at the soccer field were crowded. She had appeared at the time dictated by Lavinia, only to find the parking lot completely full. She had had to drive nearly five minutes away from the school to find a suitable and legal parking space. She almost wished she could pull out her government licenses plates and illegally park just to get there on time.

She should not have worried too much though, because despite the crowded stands, Lavinia had saved a space for her. She patted the bench next to her.

"Virgil isn't allowed to come to these things," she said by way of a greeting. Lisa looked down at her daughter and then smiled up at Myka.

"Oh great. You're telling me the dog is around?" Helena asked from twenty miles away, fitting her wireless earpiece into her ear carefully.

"Yes, he isn't darling," Lisa told her daughter on the stands of the soccer pitch, smoothing her hair. "Hi Myka." she greeted her above the head of her daughter. "We are very excited that you could make it! This is my son William." A sullen teenager looked up from his phone and nodded at Myka. Myka smiled at him. He looked back down at his phone. "Is Helena parking the car?" Lisa fished hopefully. Myka shook her head sadly.

"I'm so sorry, Lisa! She couldn't join us!"

"Oh no! Why?"

"We have a contractor coming over today to make sure all our appliances are working well."

"On a Sunday?"

"I told you." Helena's smugness rung through the earpiece. Myka resisted the urge to roll her eyes; she schooled her expression and pretended like she hadn't heard Helena.

"Yeah, it's so frustrating. But we will be working all week, so this is the only time we couldn't make it work." Lisa shook her head sadly.

"Well that's a real shame," she sighed. "These soccer games are really such an important part of our community." Myka nodded and looked around the stands.

"Looks like everyone is here." She vocalised the sentiment mainly for Helena.

"Except the dog." Helena added again.  Myka could not answer; Lisa had naturally assumed Myka's comment was aimed at her and had nodded and proceeded to explain to Myka how this game was the final between her daughter's team and the Blue Jays, the team from the neighbouring high school. Lisa described it as a "fierce sports rivalry" and Myka smiled. She remembered this from high school, though in Colorado it was American football and Myka was not involved at all.

Helena listened while she slipped into her shoes. When there was a pause in the conversation (Helena assumed Lisa's attentions had been redirected), she talked to Myka again. "Ah man you know I don't like dogs, Myka." She sighed. Myka smirked slightly and looked down at Lavinia.

"Does Virgil like ham?" She asked the girl. Lavinia's brow furrowed and she shrugged

"Virgil likes all meat. He's a dog. Dogs like meat."

"Are you saying that we have ham in the fridge?" Helena asked.

"Yes," Myka said, waiting a beat before she seemingly answered Lavinia's question, though she meant it directed at Helena. "Dogs like meat."

"You're a genius!" Helena decided. Myka looked out at the soccer pitch and smiled.

 

The neighbourhood was deserted; Myka was right. Every single person had seemingly left to watch the game of the two Awesome Rivals. It made Helena's job easier. She walked across the street and around the back door. "In suburbia, most people leave their backdoors open," Myka had claimed. Helena tried the back door. No such luck. She knelt down and began fiddling with her lock picking kit, waiting for the click. The lock was simple; it only took her fifteen seconds.

"I'm getting slower at this. I don't think I have enough exposure to lock picking at the warehouse. You should really up that before I lose these skills," Helena whispered. Myka chuckled at the end of the line. Helena smirked.

"It’s a weird change from a Farnsworth to this," she decided. "I feel like I'm mainly thinking aloud." Myka did not answer, but Helena knew she would agree with her.

"I hope the game is going well for you, because I am in," Helena whispered, grinning in success and letting herself in and closing the door carefully behind her. She was in the living room in the basement. It looked cosy and nice; a big TV and a collection of games. Helena resisted the urge to check them out and started looking under cushions and in cupboards for a white knit shawl.

"This game is really fun!" Myka said, seemingly talking to both her child friend and Helena.

"I still think you pulled the short straw. Breaking and entering is far more fun," Helena muttered, deciding that the basement was not the place the shawl was hiding and climbing up the stairs to the ground floor.

The dog bounded up to the basement door as she opened it. She winced and held out a piece of ham. The black labs tail wagged enthusiastically and it took the slab of ham and walked off, tail wagging in satisfaction.

Helena combed every room in the house. She stuffed shawls, blankets, scarves and later even pillowcases into the static bag, hoping something would react and spark.

Nothing did.

She looked at all the piles of blankets in the attics and even bagged a couple of suspicious looking white nightgowns. Nothing. "How is this thing not here?" she hissed. The dog was still padding behind her, clearly in the high hopes of some sort of treat or reward. She let him follow her, keeping a wary eye on him as she walked back downstairs.

One of the steps creaked and Helena heard a soft thump of something falling at the bottom of the stairs; a frame containing a messily written letter had toppled over on the desk and now lay face down on envelopes. Helena sighed and set the frame up correctly again

“There is nothing here,” she muttered in defeat.       

"I can't believe you can't find one simple shawl," Myka hissed into the earpiece as she looked away from the game, clearly hoping no one would notice.

"Well I _do_ apologise, but why can't these people keep their artifact shawls anywhere normal?!"

"Where is a normal place to keep your artifact shawl?!"

"Did you say something Myka?" Lisa asked, giving Myka a confused glance.

"Oh no, nothing," Myka said, looking down with an embarrassed smile while Helena responded:

"Somewhere on a high shelf probably!"

"Wow, great advice Helena," Myka breathed into her earpiece. The final whistle blew on the soccer pitch; loud cheering ensued when it was clear that the home team had won. Lavinia looked up at Myka, expression radiating pride. "We won!" she explained, simply. Myka nodded and then added loudly for Helena's benefit.

"Yeah the game is over! Looks like we will be heading _home soon_."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it. I really feel like we need to practice using these earpieces. There is absolutely no reason why you should feel the need to hint that much!"

"I'm just making sure you know you should stop breaking the law now," Myka hissed, following Lavinia off the stand. Helena sighed loudly.

"Fine, I'm going home. And having a stern chat with Claudia. because whatever artifact this is, it definitely _isn't_ a shawl."

"Could it be a blanket?"

"no, it couldn't! I checked everything that looked remotely shawl-like!" And then Myka was swept into introductions with Delia and her family, congratulating the girl on excellent sportsmanship and generally only lending one ear to the sound of Helena gracelessly leaving the house, whispering swear words aggressively as the dog tried to follow her out.

"I _hate_ dogs," she muttered, before closing the gate with a snap. "Right, I'm out. See you in fifteen minutes."

They hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no i have /not/ been watching too much 'Person of Interest' HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> plots get resolved, some illegal activities get undertaken and then lots of kissing occurs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to clarify: yes, i /am/ writing my thesis on Emily Dickinson and yes i REALLY REALLY hate Mable Loomis Todd bc she trashed Emily Dickinson's best friend/sister-in-law/(coughLOVERcough) and i will never forgive her for that.

PART III

Fifteen minutes, nearly on the dot, Myka walked back into the house to hear Helena and Claudia arguing about how better to configure Claudia's database so that errors in computing like this would not occur again.

"This is not the program's fault!" Claudia claimed, gesturing at the screens surrounding her.

"Yes, I agree! It’s the human error you injected into the program when you didn't make it complex enough to handle more than five tags."

"Are you willing to spring me a new CPU? Because the warehouse sure isn't and that's what I would need to have a program that would be able to sort that through!"

"Or you could get a COMPRESSING formula and make your program a more manageable size!"

"You two can sort out this problem later,” Myka sighed, joining Helena on the couch. “Right now, Helena and I have the problem of an unknown artifact."

"Well, I suggest that since the TWNETY FIRST CENTURY way of dealing with the problem just doesn't cut it for Helena that you guys go the old fashioned way."

"Artie's cue cards?" Myka asked, confused.

"No, that’s _too_ old fashioned. I just meant reading all the files in the database."

"That's not old-fashioned at all. Especially if you're using the internet...."

"Shut up, Helena."

 

Myka buried her head in her hands and groaned. "This is _so dumb_ ," she muttered into the wooden oak table. Helena chuckled and patted Myka on the back.

"Come come, I'm sure you've done worse things that root through all these documents."

"Who knew we had _so many_ artifacts that start with the letter 'b' that have 5 of the same symptoms as the Doyle artifact?!"

"Well, I am at V right now and it is no less fun." Myka looked up and smiled at Helena. Myka bit her lip and looked down at her paper, sighing again. "I just really wish we knew what we were looking for. It always makes everything so much simpler."

"Yeah. If Artie could help that would be great. But he's not here." Myka sighed.

"Well, at least I know losing Pete isn't detrimental. You are definitely a better speed reader than he is, though his vibes do mean that sometimes he picks the correct file at totally random."

"That sounds like a useful skill," Helena agreed. Myka smiled softly.

"It mainly makes him arrogant." Helena smiled fondly and looked down at her watch.

"Shall I go make us some tea?" she suggested, gesturing at the time. "It’s getting late and I don't think we will be getting through these papers any time soon. So might as well commit to a sleepless night." Myka chuckled.

"Sure," she agreed, watching Helena go fondly. Helena walked into the kitchen, turned on the kettle, and paced nervously. An artifact had caused her this much trouble in years. She couldn't believe they weren't finding it! People were suffering; the boy from the school who had suffered an epileptic fit was still in hospital and that girl that had pneumonia was not responding to any of the medication the doctors were administrating. There was no time for her to be pushing around these documents while children suffered, and yet it was all she could do. Right now, her options were limited and she was so annoyed.

Helena sighed and leaned her forehead against the wall in the doorway. She was exhausted; she had never been a good sleeper and the couch was far from comfortable. She was annoyed about this situation and more than anything she was annoyed with herself. She was annoyed at herself for having searched a whole house and having not found anything; she was annoyed that Myka chose to spend time with a seven year old child instead of her, and most of all she was annoyed at herself for how Myka made her feel. A combination of annoyed, excited and childish all brewed in her stomach in a constant state of desire and frustration. It wasn't fair to Myka; Myka deserved better than Helena. And Helena needed to be okay with that fact. She breathed out against the doorframe steadily, eyes squeezed shut.

"Helena?" Myka's voice was precarious and careful. Helena's eyes flew open and she immediately straightened up, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"Oh, hi there, Myka. Sorry, the tea is just boiling. In the kettle. I mean, the kettle is on."

"Are you alright?"

"Me? Yeah! I'm fine!"

"Are you sure?" Myka tilted her head and crossed her arms. "You didn't look alright."

"Oh I just haven't been sleeping right," Helena explained, brushing the concern off. The kettle boiled and she nearly pounced on it, grateful for something to keep her hands occupied. She carefully set out the two mugs and glanced behind her. Myka had her arms crossed and was watching her with stern concern. Helena smiled weakly.

"Milk or sugar?" she asked. Myka nodded.

"Milk. But only a bit."

"A woman after my own heart," Helena joked, adding a shot of milk to the tea and then handing Myka her finished cup handle first, relishing the burn of the hot ceramic against her hands. It was sad she was grasping at these things now, wasn't it.

"Helena, if this case bothers you too much I can always call up Pete..."

"Oh no, no don't worry about me. I'm fine. I mean, I really want to wrap this up, but it's all okay..." Myka put down her mug on the counter and approached Helena slowly. "Anyway, I kind of enjoyed being fake-married to you," she added, trying to inject some humour into the situation. Myka chuckled.

"I _am_ the better half between me and Pete," she agreed. Helena chuckled.

"You're the best!" She agreed.

Myka tilted her head and patted Helena on the shoulder absently. "I like being fake married to you too," she murmured, and the way she said it, Helena was suddenly sure she meant something else; something more important. She put down her own mug and stepped forward, invading Myka's personal space and breathing in her smell. She took Myka’s mug from her hands and put it on the counter too. Myka watched her carefully. Helena cupped Myka's cheek; the tea made her hand warmer than Myka's cheek, and a blush spread from her cheeks. Myka leaned into the touch slightly, and Helena took that as an invitation to step forward and lightly kiss her. It was a light kiss, brushing lips and against lips, that lingered for only a couple of seconds, but Helena felt her body spark as her internal organs seem to hiccup with excitement. Myka's eyes had fluttered closed, flew open as Helena made to pull back. Myka's hand around Helena's neck held her steady and Myka pulled her closer again, this time initiating the kiss herself. Helena couldn't help but chuckle as their noses bumped together as Myka kissed Helena again; a collection of tantalisingly shallow kisses.

"I've wanted to do that for a very long time," Myka muttered against Helena's lips. Helena chuckled and then threaded her own hands through Myka's hair.

"Hmm, I know the feeling," she hummed and then she pulled Myka close for a deeper kiss; her tongue ran along the bottom of Myka's lips, and then flicked against her tongue.

Myka seemed to melt into her, her body slowly seeking contact with Helena’s as Helena gently cupped the back of Myka's head and shifted her head so she could get a better angle. Myka purred quietly and Helena grinned, flicking her tongue upward. The little noise of approval intensified and suddenly that was all Helena could think about. She leaned against the counter and dropped both her hands to Myka's ass, pulling her closer and administering pressure right where she knew it was needed. Myka was taller than Helena and seemed to overshadow her, leaning into her and making Helena reach up. Myka chuckled in Helena's mouth and promptly lifted Helena onto the counter: Helena squeaked in surprise.

"Did you just squeak?" Myka demanded, breaking the kiss. Helena scoffed and was about to give a witty retort that no, she did NOT squeak, when the shrill buzz of the Farnsworth interrupted them. It was vibrating surprisingly close to Helena's groin. Myka blushed and fished the device out of her pocket, smoothed her hair, and answered the phone, though Helena did not move her hands for Myka's ass, and Myka's left hand was innocently running up and down Helena's thigh.

"Yes?" She asked, voice surprisingly together.

"I found it! I figured it out! I MADE IT!" Claudia was whooping and cheering for herself on the other side of the Farnsworth. Helena leaned over so she too could see the screen. A collection of coffee cups littered Artie's desk; Helena could see Myka biting back a comment about how Artie would be displeased at how his desk was being mistreated. Instead, she asked:

"What? You solved what? What is happening?"

"The artifact problem! I figured out what it is! It was one of Emily Dickinson's letters!"

"A letter? an old letter?" Helena leaned over the screen. "They had one of those on the desk in the living room!"

"Hell yeah! We cracked it!" Claudia twirled in her chair and then stopped herself with a hand against the desk and turned to the screen, head tilted. "What are you two doing, by the way?" She asked, head tilted slightly. Helena slipped off the counter and took the Farnsworth from Myka before Myka's blush could reveal their secret.

"Drinking tea, and research," she explained, showing the Farnsworth the two steaming mugs of tea and then gesturing towards the living room.

"Oh. Right. Boring." Claudia yawned.

"You should sleep!" Myka instructed, taking the Farnsworth back.

"Sleep? Me? No, sleep is for nerds."

"You _are_ a nerd," Helena pointed out, "Or as far as I understand the definition of ‘nerd’, anyway."

"Did you google the definition?" Helena grabbed the Farnsworth so she could glare at Claudia.

"My cultural ignorance literally never fails to amuse you, does it, Claudia?"

"Well, let's just say I have a queue of inane YouTube videos about cats and flushing toilets ready to go whenever you want to jump into that blood bath."

"Blood bath?"

"A waste of time."

"Don't watch cat videos," Myka sighed and took the Farnsworth again. "Please, go to bed Claudia. Helena and I will be breaking and entering. But if we weren't, I would definitely be sleeping too."

"Alright. I'll send you the file about the letter first though. Don't you want to know what your neutralising?"

"Great." Myka hung up and hung her head with a sigh. "I hate breaking and entering."

"Can I distract you?" Helena offered, slipping into Myka's personal space again. Myka looked up, concerned look melting away to show pure unadulterated affection as she couldn't help but return Helena's warm smile. She sighed and leaned into Helena.

"Can you just hold me?" She asked, feeling slightly pathetic but also far more tired. Helena chuckled and wrapped Myka into her arms. She fit under Myka's chin almost perfectly and sighed out comfortably. "Why does Emily Dickinson's letter carry so much destruction?" Myka murmured into Helena's hair. Helena looked up and smiled wickedly.

"Want to find out?"

 

**Emily Dickinson's letter; artifact class 3**

_Emily Dickinson, the American poet, born on December 18th 1830 and died May XX in 1884, was an isolated figure who has recently become an object of cult fascination. All but 7 of her poems were published posthumous by her brother's mistress while her brother's wife, her best friend, was forced to watch. Emily Dickinson's biography has been subject to multiple psychoanalyses; some biographers have diagnosed her with TB, others with epilepsy, other's again with an extreme phobia of the market place, and other again of severe childhood trauma. The speculation that surrounds Emily Dickinson had infected many objects she owned with the energy that creates artifacts. Her letters, especially, seem to have a magnetic power to transmit any of the possible diseases Emily Dickinson was diagnosed with to any large group of people, though it is important to note that the first person who touches the artifact is /never/ infected, since it only works through transmission. This has made Emily Dickinson's letters an incredibly hard object to track, since the owner of the artifact is never the person infected, and thus agents are forced to interview every person who has had contact with the infected person. This can sometimes take weeks and thus very few of Emily Dickinson's letters are in the warehouse. Most are in the Harvard Library, where they are harmless. However, Susan Gilbert Dickinson, Emily Dickinson's best friend and rumoured lover, may have passed some of the more personal letters to her own children in an attempt to keep them out of the hand of Mable Loomis Todd._

 

Myka looked up as she finished the article. "I suppose that explains a lot of things," she admitted. Helena tilted her head thoughtfully.

"The farm containing the letter was propped on the desk, despite the fact that there was a nail on the wall clearly designed to hold it up. It might have fallen, prompting both Lisa and Fred to handle it."

"And explaining why were able to narrow down the location of the artifact."

"It still seems strange that an artifact is so powerful, but all its power comes from other people's speculation." Helena chuckled and shrugged.

"You have long stopped trying to understand artifact science," she admitted. "It always seems too bizarre when you try and categorize them."

"Endless wonder dose require an infinite amount of variation," Myka agreed. Helena grinned and threaded her hands through Myka's hands.

 

Breaking and entering was almost too easy in suburbia. Myka had broken into museums, a secret service facility and once a bank. Helena had broken into the Warehouse, Buckingham palace and the louver. Between them, the Doyle's house, with its simple alarm system and 2001 burglar alarm was simply no match.

"I can't believe a man who works in the publishing industry thought that he didn't need to update his burglary alarm for 15 years. I mean, doesn't he deal with thefts every day?"

"That's copyright thefts, Claudia," Helena sighed. Claudia just grinned and pressed a button.

"Whatever. It's down now. I am genuinely ashamed for this man that his burglar alarm still runs on dial up. I mean, yes it made it harder for me to hack him, but also, it would make it harder for the police to come!"

"Well pass that message on after we have stolen a priceless good from his house," Myka hissed at the screen.

"Serves him right," Claudia mumbled.

"Now go back to sleep," Myka instructed her. Claudia buried her head in her pillows.

"I'm in the MIDDLE of season 5 of the X Files, Myka. I don't REALLY have time for sleep." Myka rolled her eyes and closed the Farnsworth.

"What are the X Files?" Helena asked. "I mean, I am assuming Claudia isn't talking about watching the files that begin with the letter X in the Warehouse database system.

"You assume right. Now, why is this lock picking taking so long?"

"Picking locks requires finesse, Ms. Bering."

"That's Agent Bering to you." Helena looked up and grinned and the lock clicked. The door opened. Virgil looked up from his perch next to the counter and wagged his tail as he saw Myka and Helena. He slowly got up, stretched and hopped over to them. "You neutralise the letter. I got the dog." Myka instructed, before kneeling down in front of the dog and scratching his ears affectionately.

"Hey Virgil," she murmured. Helena tripped over the hallway, cursed under her breath and made it to the living room. It was the same mess that it was earlier; the frame holding the letter was still leaning against the desk where it had been this afternoon. Helena slipped on her gloves, grabbed the frame and put it in a static bag. Nothing sparked. She sighed in exasperation and put the frame down on the desk so she could cut through the back and get the letter out.

"What are you DOING?" Myka hissed as Helena took her knife out of her back pocket. "That letter is a priceless artifact! If anything happens to it..."

"Fine," Helena muttered and pried the back of the frame off. She took out the letter; it was tattered and had been folded many times. The handwriting was messy and nearly indistinguishable, but in the bottom right corner, unmistakeable, was the long scrawl that was Emily Dickinson's signature.

"Do you have it?" Myka hissed as Helena re-entered the kitchen. Myka was kneeling on the kitchen floor, stroking the dogs stomach as he lay there, eyes closed in blissful relaxation. Helena rolled her eyes and held up the static bag which was sealed shut and nodded.

"It sparked and everything," she said happily.

"Great. Let's go," Myka muttered, standing up fluidly and skipping towards the door.

"Myka?" They froze. Myka spun around and cursed her luck. Lavinia was standing in the door way, head tilted. "What are you doing here?" The dog got up from its back and trotted over to his owner, nosing her hand until she calmly scratched him behind the ears. Myka crouched down to the ground again.

"Remember that strange thing we were looking for?" She asked, tilting her head. Helena tried to make herself disappear in the back for fear of interrupting this. Lavinia nodded solemnly. "Well, we found it," Myka explained. "We found it, and we took it. Now that boy who was really sick and in hospital? He will feel better tomorrow morning. Your dad's best friend will be able to leave the house again. Your aunt won't be sad anymore."

"All because you took away the bad thing?"

"There are a lot of bad things in the world, Lavinia. Not all of them can be hidden away, like this one, but some of them can. And those things that can be put away and stop hurting things, those come with me."

"So you're like a superhero?"

"No. I'm just an ordinary woman. But I do my best."

"Okay. Why did you have to come at night though?"

"We have to leave in the morning."

"Will you come say goodbye?"

"I'll come by before school, promise." Lavinia tilted her head.

"We weren't neighbours for very long, but I think you were the best neighbour ever." Lavinia decided. Myka smirked.

"I try," she said. Lavinia just nodded and looked down at her dog.

"Virgil will miss you," she decided. Myka grinned and carefully patted the girl on the shoulder.

"And I'll miss him. A lot. I might write him a postcard if I am somewhere nice."

"He would like that," Lavinia agreed, smiling. Myka touched her shoulder one last time and got up.

"See you tomorrow morning," she whispered, and then she and Helena left through the kitchen door, listening as it fell into the lock again behind them.

"I have no idea how you wrap children around your finger like that," Helena sighed, falling into step next to Myka as she strode back to their own, comfortably lit house. Myka smirked.

"Sure you don't," she said, disbelieving. "Most children spill all their secrets to you within 30 seconds."

"Yeah, but not that one."

"well, she reminded me of someone. I wanted to help."

After they called their successful snagging into the warehouse, Helena called the hospital about the boy. He was recovering, a confused nurse told her. “Miraculous,” she proclaimed, and Helena hung up, satisfied.

They were sitting on the floor in the master bedroom; Myka began clearing away the files, nervously sorting them into piles. Helena watched her for a second, decided they needed something to take the edge off a stressful evening. Myka didn’t ask where Helena was going when she got up and left the bedroom, though she did feel a heavy sinking disappointment in the pit of her stomach.

“Thank God I made you buy that bottle of wine,” Helena said cheerily, appearing in the door way again and holding up the uncorked white wine. She folded herself on the floor neatly next to Myka and offered her the bottle.

“What are we, teenagers? Drinking on a floor really isn’t very classy, Helena.”

“The town of Northfield, New Hampshire isn’t very classy. Anyway, we _finished_ a case!”

“Barely.”

“It will help take the edge off. Promise.”

“This?” Myka took a swig of the wine, pleasantly surprised by the dry but round flavour. “Fine, you’re right,” she admitted begrudgingly, making a note of the vintage. It tasted wonderful and bright and bubbly, and Myka couldn’t help but smile up at Helena as Helena took the wine back and sipped out of the bottle too. Myka watched, head tilted.

“Has wine changed much?” She asked, looking up from the moist bottle to watch Helena. “Surprisingly, yes. The rise of the new world and the finesse of machines have allowed areas that weren’t even recognised as an independent country in my day to produce wine.” Myka nodded appreciatively. “Leena has been training me,” Helena added, taking the wine out of Myka’s hands and slowly sipping from it. “She was amused at my confusion at the selection in the supermarket and she gave me some good pointers.”

“like what?” Myka asked, curious. Helena grinned.

“The more expensive, the tastier.” Helena offered with a grin. Myka chuckled.

“That sounds just about the same advice I would give,” she admitted. Helena gave Myka a disbelieving look.

“Really? Agent Bering, I’ve been under the impression that there is very little you’re not an expert on.”

“Very little?” Myka scoffed. “Please. I can barely keep up with your genius!”

“And yet yesterday we had an hour long conversation about which of Tesla’s two inventions that he presented at the Chicago EXPO we found more revolutionary to the sphere of electromagnetic invention.”

“That’s history,” Myka countered. Helena rolled her eyes.

“Fine. You explained to me how the gooery works.”

“That’s in the manual.” Helena glared at Myka and took another swig of wine while she bought time to think of another example of Myka’s genius. She put down the wine with a successful yelp.

“We spent the whole drive to Denver discussing whether or not the universe is expanding and contracting. _That’s_ theoretical physics! No way you can talk your way out of that!” Myka laughed and took the wine off Helena.

“Actually, I thought it was more of a lecture,” Myka disagreed, mischief in her eyes. “A lecture lead by you.” Helena huffed.

“It was _not_! You brought up the electromagnetic imaging!”

“I had read about it in the New Yorker.” Helena grabbed the wine bottle back in frustration.

“That doesn’t stop it from being _genius_.”

“It really does,” Myka disagreed, grinning.

“You’re the _worst_ ,” Helena clarified, and before Myka could protest again, she leaned in. She hovered, for a split second, impossibly close to Myka, her nose nudging Myka’s nose gently, breathing in the smell of Myka before she slowly kissed Myka. For a second, Myka froze, the sudden change in atmosphere catching her off guard. Helena pulled back, her eyes fluttering open as she stared at Myka.

“Why did you do that again?” Myka asked, quietly, her breath ghosting over Helena’s cheeks.

“Because I’m tipsy and I felt like it,” Helena murmured. Myka shifted, coming closer to Helena as her eyes flicked down to Helena’s lips. “Do you want me to stop?” Helena offered. Myka bit her lip.

“No,” she murmured. “We _should_ stop though.”

“We should,” Helena agreed, slowly kissing Myka again. Myka leaned into the kiss, abandoning her grip on the wine bottle, and instead cupping her hand around Helena’s jaw, pushing away the hair carefully.

“This is against lots of rules,” Myka protested weakly, adjusting her angle and licking into Helena’s mouth. Helena murmured in agreement, pushing herself onto her knees and sliding a hand around Myka’s neck. Myka’s mouth slid elegantly against Helena’s as Helena gently sucked on Myka’s tongue. Myka’s short nails dug into the back of Helena’s neck, registering her approval as a hand anchored itself on Helena’s hips. Helena ran a hand through Myka’s hair, gripping the back of her head as their soft tongues nudged each other. Helena stabilized herself against the side of the bed, grinning as Myka moaned into the kiss.

She pulled back slightly. “Yes?” she teased, grinning at Myka’s dilated eyes, though the thrumming of her own body leaves her under no illusions that she doesn’t look the same.

“Yes,” Myka breathed, tugging at Helena’s belt loops until Helena was straddling her on the floor. Myka slipped an arm around Helena’s neck, under her hair, and dragged her down, their bodies aligning carefully as Helena carefully explored Myka’s mouth. Myka shifted against the bed and yelped.

“Ow, oh fuck, ow,” she laughed. Helena bit down on Myka’s neck, making her simultaneously arch into the touch, gasping, and giggle more. Helena sighed and straightened up, fixing Myka with a glare.

“How am I meant to be sexy if you’re giggling?” She demanded. Myka laughed as she sat up, pushing Helena onto her thighs.

“Sorry, but now we _really_ are acting like teenagers, and I don’t think my back can deal with it.” Helena sighed in mock exasperation.

“I _suppose_ we could go on the bed,” she conceded. She pushed herself off the floor and offered Myka a hand, pulling her up. Myka grinned and kissed Helena again, tangling her hands in Helena’s hair. Helena bit down on Myka’s lip and Myka untangled a hand from her hair to anchor it on her hip, dragging Helena closer.

“I really want you,” Myka murmured, eyes still closed. Helena kissed Myka again lightly.

“I want you too,” Helena agreed, intensifying the kiss with a slow, comforted nudge against Myka’s lips. Helena’s hands pushed up at Myka’s t-shirt, clamouring for skin. Myka just began unbuttoning Helena’s blouse with a calculated slowness. Helena broke the kiss with an exasperated sigh, pulling the blouse over her head. Myka laughed gently.

“Too slow?” She asked, teasing. Helena pushed Myka’s t-shirt over her head.

“Yes,” she murmured. She traced her fingers down Myka’s skin lightly, leaving a path of goosebumps as Myka’s body responded to the touch. “I love how easy undressing is in the 21st century.” Helena began walking Myka back carefully.

“Easier?” Myka asked, distracted as Helena trailed kisses down Myka’s chest.

Myka’s calves hit the bed: Helena carefully lowered Myka down, pulling her to the edge of the bed by the back of her knees. “A lot less clothes,” Helena murmured as her hands trailed up Myka’s thighs. Helena watched Myka’s breathing speed up as she watched Helena’s hands. She grinned, carefully opening Myka’s jeans and dragging down the zipper, applying just the right pressure to make Myka gasp.

“Helena,” Myka snarled, warningly. Helena grinned.

“Impatient?” she teased, carefully pulling Myka’s jeans down her waist. Myka’s back arched, lifting her body off the bed to speed the process. Helena pulled away the material and grinned at Myka, predatory smirk on her lips as she stood between Myka’s legs.

“No,” Myka muttered, pushing herself up so she could kiss Helena again. Helena chuckled into Myka’s mouth as Myka made quick work of Helena’s jeans, pulling them down Helena’s thighs with a powerful yank. Helena carefully stepped out of the trousers and straddled Myka’s lap, enjoying the uncharacteristic height the position gave her. Myka grinned up at Helena and pushed some of her silky hair aside, hooking it behind her ear. Helena chuckled as Myka carefully combed through her hair again. The light scratch against Helena’s skull made her murmur in approval, her eyes fluttering shut.

Helena’s lips found Myka’s again, lightly brushing against them as she adjusted her hips against Myka’s. Myka groaned into Helena’s mouth, lowering her torso onto the bed while Helena intensified the kiss again, lightly nipping her lip. Myka exhaled breathily and tried to focus on anything but Helena’s sleek thigh rubbing against the skin right on her hip, leaving a trail of cold goosebumps in its wake. Helena’s attention shifted as her hand came up to cup Myka’s breast over her bra. Myka’s already over-stimulated skin, reacted to the touch. Myka arched into the touch again and pressed her head into the soft mattress.

“Fuck,” Myka groaned. Helena just grinned, lowering her mouth to the nipple. Myka felt her whole body go rigid with arousal as Helena’s soft, _hot_ tongue rubbed the coarse material of her lacey bra over her nipple. “Helena,” Myka growled, hands threaded through silky hair and pulling Helena up again. A deep need had started somewhere in her chest and sunk lower, a gasoline fire igniting every ounce of her being, a fire she tried to translate into her kiss as she slid an hand around Helena’s thigh and pushed her thigh up.

“Myka.” In that moment, Myka was sure, _positive_ , convinced, beyond doubt, that the most attractive thing in the world was Helena moaning her name into her mouth.

 

The alarm on Myka’s phone began quietly, but then quickly picked up volume. Myka fumbled for her phone, groggily opening her eyes. Helena groaned and buried her face deeper into the pillow.

“Go say goodbye to your friend,” she muttered sleepily into the pillow. Myka sighed and glanced at the clock. She had another half an hour before Lavinia’s bus would come for her. She pushed at Helena’s arm and wound it around herself impatiently. Helena opened one eye and smirked before she gave in and snuggled around Myka, warm breath tickling Myka’s neck pleasantly. Myka sighed happily and watched the sunrise outside of her window.

Helena fell asleep again quickly; Myka disentangled herself from her and got dressed quickly, padding downstairs quietly and stepping outside into the harsh morning sunlight. Lavinia, who had been sitting on her doorstep, pink backpack secured and obedient dog sitting next to her, smiled when she saw her.

“You came,” She pointed out. Myka jogged across the street and nodded.

“Of course I came!”

“My aunt is well. My dad’s best friend is also better.” The girl tilted her head. “What did you do, Myka?”

“I did my job.”

“Did you save the world?”

“No. I saved people.” Lavinia thought about it for a second, tilting her head.

“I suppose that’s better,” she decided suddenly. Myka smiled.

“I suppose it is,” she agreed. Lavinia went to school, awkwardly petting Myka on the shoulder before she left without a backwards glance.

 

Myka clambered back into bed with Helena after Lavinia had gone. Helena nuzzled against her shoulder and made a happy noise. Myka stroked her hair and sighed contentedly, settling into bed and trying to memorize every edge and smooth contour of Helena’s face. Helena’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled at Myka.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Treasuring this moment,” Myka replied. Helena grinned.

“Are you worried you’re going to lose me after the divorce?” She joked Myka glanced over at the nightstand where their wedding rings were discarded.

“No, I just don’t think I’ll ever see you in this light again,” Myka murmured. Helena chuckled.

“Myka Bering, you can have me in any light you want anywhere in the universe.”

“The universe? Isn’t that a bit ambitious?”

“No.”

“No?” Myka asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

“No,” Helena replied decisively, kissing Myka as if to seal the promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> concluding note: THANKS 4 EVERYONE WHO READ AND THE GOOD OLE PEEPS OVER ON TUMBLR WHO ORGANISED AU WEEK

**Author's Note:**

> part II will be up on Saturday and part III on Sunday; they just need to be edited.


End file.
